Collection:Love Stories Vol 1
by Francesca Envy
Summary: A collection of my HPDM drabbles. Enjoy, I'll add more continually. Slash.
1. Ideals

One:Ideals

* * *

Saturdays were Draco's favourites.

Every Saturday, they went out together. Somewhere cut off; nobody could ever find them but when they came back to the castle under the cloak with tell tale marks on their necks and a fit of the giggles, anyone could guess.

Draco longed for a open relationship. Clandestine affairs orchestrated with perfect detail were amazing at the start-so romantic and full of passion-but they were too far along to think of it as just passion anymore. When their eyes met electricity flowed, mixed together with the most powerful emotions one person could ever experience at the same time-he didn't want to hide that from the world. But he did, because he knew it would pay off soon. Soon, they could both leave and finally live the life they longed for.

Green eyes met grey ones, pleading silently, until finally somebody broke the silence.

'I love you too much to let them take you away yet.' The voice breaking halfway through the sentence; the emerald eyes filling with tears. And then, Draco felt his heart start to break just looking at the boy.

'I can wait.' He couldn't, but he would.

* * *

A/N:None of these drabbles are connected to each other, by the way. I hope you liked this one-comments/concrit definitely welcomed :

-Fran


	2. Snow

Two: Snow

* * *

Harry comes in from the blizzard, coated in a layer of white fluff, shivering. Pulling his coat off and laying it on a nearby chair, he goes up to his dormintory to change.

Locking the door behind him, Harry starts taking off the rest of his cold, wet clothes, throwing them on the floor carelessly, when he hears a voice.

'They aren't going to dry properly if you leave them like that, you know.' He looks for the source of the voice, but there is none. Or so it seems...Draco pulls the Invisibility Cloak off of himself, shuddering as he does so because damn, the room is cold. He watches Harry's expression change from horror to amusement as he walks towards the bed where Draco is laid out, wearing the cloak around his midriff and nothing else it seems.

'I should have guessed. How did you get up here, huh?' Harry asks, smiling because this is the best surprise he can think of. He's only wearing his boxers now, and as he flops down on the bed next to his lover he knows that Draco is eyeing them with contempt.

'Not even your common room's portrait is immune to my charms, it seems...anyway, we have more pressing matters to attend to. Those boxers look a bit damp to me, maybe you should take them off.' Harry laughs and meets silvery eyes laced with mischief.

'I don't think the snow did that, but as you wish.'

They come off.

An hour later, they're laying on the bed. Draco's lazy, sated smile is all Harry cares about, and he decides that this is how they are going to spend every Christmas.


	3. Crazy

Three: Crazy

* * *

They both think it's not going to last that long, but it doesn't really matter.

An abandoned classroom is the venue for this latest meeting and Harry is so glad that the old saying about walls having eyes isn't true (but actually, in a place like this, he isn't too sure anyway) as wet lips meet the skin on his neck and pale, slender hands grip his hips. He falls onto the floor, the boy now on top of him smirking as Harry's breath hitches and he has to focus to stop his eyes glazing over in ecstacy.

This ghost of a boy, so pale and angelic Harry isn't sure that anything they share is real anymore, works on removing clothes as Harry just watches in awe. When Harry runs out of energy and just wants to forget everything, this is the only person he can rely on to do it. He enjoys being controlled and dominated, it gives him less to do and less responsibility to burden. When this relationship, for lack of better words, loses its novelty, the real world will drop on him like a ton of bricks.

Suddenly, everything stops. They're both half naked and Harry needs this more than anything, but the boy on top of Harry has decided that something else is more important.

'I love you.' Harry looks into eyes that are full of worry and caring; it scares him and the other boy can sense it. 'I won't leave you to fight this war alone.' Harry knows the words ring true, and for the first time in years he feels like he can deal with everything to come. He stands up, bringing the other boy with him.

'Thankyou,' he whispers, and Draco feels like the most important person in the world.

* * *

A/N:Personally, this is my favourite by far. 


	4. Drunk

Four: Drunk

* * *

They don't know what they're doing. Or at least, that's what everyone else thinks-they know exactly what they're doing.

Eyes are watching them, accusing and cold. They're too drunk to know any better, they mutter to each other. In the morning, they won't remember it. But Harry and Draco, standing outside together and arms around the other's waist to keep them upright, don't need to remember because this is no different to every other time they've spent down in Hogsmeade, gossiping like best friends and sharing sloppy, drunken kisses.

Harry's legs finally buckle after 2 bottles' worth of Firewhiskey and they go down together, as always. They can't stop laughing now as the onlookers stare in distaste and Draco finally manages to blurt out something along the lines of "go away" with more slurring and swearing mingled in before he turns back towards his boyfriend and they meet in a slow, drawn out and lazy kiss. It is then that Professor Snape storms outside-apparently, the other students have been talking-and stops dead in his tracks at the sight.

'POTTER! MALFOY! Stop that immediately,' he screeches, turning red at intruding on such an intimate scene. They don't pull apart, and it takes McGonagall's interference to actually prise them apart, protesting loudly as alcohol is confiscated and they are frogmarched to Snape's office, laughing all the way.

When they are interrogated, the questions getting ever more personal, they just sit there in disbelief, holding hands, wondering why everyone really cares so much as to tear them apart. Harry finally manages to gather his few functioning brain cells together and blurts out something nobody really expected.

'Would you rather I punched him?'

The room goes quiet, and the happy couple take their leave.


	5. Whore

Five:Whore

* * *

Harry always does what he's told. 

'Lay down.' A voice commands from the corner of the room, watching the boy on the bed as he lies down. The boy watching from the corner can see up the tight yellow miniskirt now, and smirks as he observes the lack of underwear. He wants a better view, though. 'Spread your legs.' There's no hesitation in Harry's movements-he knows that the quicker he follows commands, the quicker he will get what he needs.

Harry wasn't always like this. But certain people dug out his weaknesses, touched on feelings he never knew he could have, introduced him to fantasies and fetishes he would have recoiled in disgust at only a year ago. And now, for that boy's touch, he would do anything. It was no hardship-he enjoyed it much more than he wanted to admit. The voice interrupted his thoughts, the boy's head quirked to the side as he observed the spectacle before him.

'What were you thinking about, babe? Anything...interesting?' He asked, and Harry knows this is a trap. He isn't going to fall into his old, sarcastic replies about other boys-his lover was too jealous not to hold it against him later. Harry stays silent and the mystery boy moves closer to the bed, watching as Harry's eyes light up, in hope that the torture's finally over. He's wrong. 'Baby, what are you?' The boy asks, moving to sit inbetween Harry's spread legs, hands massaging the now panting dark haired boy's inner thighs.

'I'm yours...' Harry gasps, trying not to sound so needy even though they both know he is. And at hearing that voice, the other boy can't tease anymore.

* * *

Later on, they're lying together and Harry's skirt is strewn on the floor somewhere. The black corset is ripped and still on the bed, but the black stilletto heels are still firmly strapped to his feet. His lover wakes up, arms tightening around Harry's waist. 

'How did we get here? We're so different...' Harry muses, turning towards the blonde boy beside him, looking into the grey eyes for answers.

'We both have things the other wants. And if we want, we can share. But if we don't...we are as we were before. It's all about jealousy.' Draco answers, hoping it will shut Harry up.

'I must be crazy if this whole thing is about want. You're manipulative, you're sadistic, you're possessive-'

'And you love it.'

Harry doesn't answer, but the smile says it all. The heels don't come off for another hour.

* * *

A/N:This one was a bit of a joke...a friend of mine wanted me to write a story like this and it's just what I came up with. Comments and concrit appreciated; I realise that this is rather...surreal. 


	6. War

Six: War

* * *

A cold force parted two lovers. Sparks of emnity, jealousy and contempt made a romance so much more short lived than it should have been.

Two traitors to their roots. To their histories and to their families whose rivalry spanned over centuries, two boys to be despised and discredited.

Their love showed no limits, their sacrifices were great. The Boy-Who-Lived, and the son of a Death Eater, involved in a sweeping romance to rival anything ever seen. They ran away together, leaving behind a field of a million damned souls, a prophecy yet to be fulfilled, and arguments that needed to be resolved.

The final battle, it was predicted, would need to be won by knives twisted in hearts and promises of hate. At the end, there would have been one left standing. One to conquer the world. Light versus dark. Evil versus good. But, when people were promised this ending, the people writing the history books of tomorrow didn't realise that nothing is ever planned.

Finally, in a small countryside cottage, blood painted the walls. One was killed, and one went willingly to join him. The traitor and the hero, dead. Nobody is allowed to be happy, it seems, because only tragedy can end this war. If people won't realise with words, they will be made to realise by the green light that has claimed so many of the ignorant before. They need to realise that everything will inevitably happen, even if it is by force.

* * *

A/N:I don't mind the way it turned out, but I'm not as fond of this one. Comments? Concrit? 


	7. Friends?

Seven: Friends?

* * *

Draco can imagine how different it would have been, maybe, if they weren't all born into this war.

He can imagine having friends from the other houses. Laughing with them instead of hexing them. Maybe even inviting someone over to the Manor, for a holiday.

He's always wanted to be friends with Harry Potter. Ever since first year, when Harry rejected the offer, Draco has surrounded himself with friends of wealth and status but very little emotion. He thinks maybe if Harry was there to talk to, just like a best friend, that he wouldn't feel so down all the time. Having someone to spend Christmas with when he stays behind; sharing in jokes while sitting at the edge of the lake. He didn't really have anyone like that, and he really wishes he would get a real best friend. For once.

Then he thinks whether friends is the right word for things he feels and wishes, no, wants, with a passion as stong as this. He wants someone who can carry around half of their soul with them, and him return the favour. He doesn't want secrets or lies. He wants love, protection, something stable and real to fall back on.

He watches Harry with Weasley's little sister, Ginny. He doesn't want her hurt anymore than she already is; he's giving up so much to keep her safe and happy. They've been through many years together, reading each other so well there's no need to keep secrets if they are already known. He looks at her with love and concern, and the lights in his eyes only become truly bright seeing her.

A single tear travels down Draco's cheek, because he would give anything to be in her place.

* * *

A/N:I hope you liked this one. It's a bit OOC, I realise, but it just turned out like this. Comments/concrit? 


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